


snow

by extemporaneous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Snow, Sweaters, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 16:00:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extemporaneous/pseuds/extemporaneous





	snow

Cas was so cute in snow, frowning like an indignant kitten. Now that he was human it was like he was feeling the cold for the first time, which was to be considered obvious at a glance. The man was wrapped up in at least three layers of coats, and Dean wondered how he could even breathe. His eyes squinted, so blue compared to his white surroundings, his straight nose red at the tip and his bottom pink lip covered by the scarf wrapped around his neck and chin.  
They were outside the bunker after Dean had complained about it being too stuffy and boring. Sam had taken a sip from his beer, leaning his head back on the couch, still looking tired. “Then go outside.” He said simply, sighing.   
They’d had a break between hunts and a break between information feed from Kevin. Dean assumed stuff would pick up again once the poor kid could translate the tablet, and, although he was happy that Sam was getting his well deserved rest, if he had to watch Castiel standing up and sitting down and standing up and sitting down, he was going to break something.  
“Fine.” Dean said, standing up with a groan. He’d been sitting there for awhile now. “I will. And Cas is going with me, before I punch him in the stomach.”  
“Dean, “ Cas said softly, looking irked. “It’s cold outside. There’s snow.”  
Sam glanced at Dean, and Dean returned the look. The slightly older hunter walked over to Cas, putting a hand on his arm. “You are definitely getting outside.”

So here they were, Cas bulky and unhappy with some old clunky boots of Dean’s, the snow going past them to his shins. Dean liked the way Cas’ cheekbones tinged pink, just one more little proof that Cas had changed after the fall.  
“There’s an angel in heaven…” Cas started, running a gloved hand over one of the snows ladled branches. “There’s an angel, according to Gabriel, that makes each snowflake with careful hands, and that he names each one.”  
Dean didn’t know whether to drop science fact merely because angels existed, but the wonder and hurt Cas held in his voice made him a believer none the less. He lifted his hand, one tiny snowflake sticking to the red fabric of his glove and peered at it. “We’ll name this one Sam.”  
Cas smiled under the scarf, and Dean’s heart did a little skip. “Because he’s a special snowflake?”  
Ducking his head in a little, Dean laughed. “Yeah.”   
Cas walked over to him, lifting his snow encased feet and staring intently at Dean, only to stand close enough that their arms brushed.  
“Everythings so beautiful.” It was a whisper and it held so much reverence. Dean couldn’t tolerate it. Despite the past harrowing events Cas found something in everything, even if it seemed like nothing to the next person. His heart was too big for the world around him. And here he was standing beside Dean, and the hunter couldn’t fathom why’d he stuck around for so long.  
“Cas…”  
He looked up, still shorter than Dean by a few inches and smiled, his eyes overflowing with affection, gleaming like he was proud of his hunter. Like he had chosen the perfect person to watch the snowfall with.   
And then Dean was tilting his head down, blushing like mad to kiss Cas’ nose. Lingering lips brushing against his friend’s skin, too scared to see Cas’ reaction. Dean looked to see Castiel beaming, a smile making the circles under his eyes seem only like a sign of a long day. As he went to pull away, the ex-angel made a muffled noise and grabbed the button up collar of Dean’s sweater, pulled his hunter close and pressed his lips to Dean’s.   
Sam and Kevin were never to know of the little sounds Dean made, or that his hands weren't sure where to touch first, or that Cas was laughing because he was supposed to be the naive one. They wouldn't know, at least not now. Not while the frost covered the Batcave's windows, and the doors and to pried open from their frozen, stiff hinges. Not while they could be curled up inside, under blankets, with hot coco and a fireplace and books to read. This was Dean and Cas and the cold. And Dean wouldn't change it for the world. 

They were enveloped in the snow, Castiel’s dark hair messy and a stark contrast to the white landscape, his eyes wide, scarves and gloves strewn aside, Dean cradling Cas’ jaw in his palm, bodies locking together like jigsaw pieces.  
“Cas…” He breathed into his lips, a resigned loving sigh and they were lost in each other’s arms, watching the angel made snow drift slowly down from the sky, all foggy breathes and rosy worn skin.  
Both of them liked the cold much better now.


End file.
